


make a path to the rainbow’s end

by Pidonyx



Series: Ballet AU [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, THE KILLJOYS ARE NOT MCR, but hey! hyperfixation plus me missing ballet desperately equals, kinda cring!, this ig, this is short it’s practically nothing i was debating even posting it to ao3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidonyx/pseuds/Pidonyx
Summary: Tombé (French) — To Have Fallen.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Ballet AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016266
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	make a path to the rainbow’s end

**Author's Note:**

> aaa ok so i wasn’t gonna post this but im in a fit of insanity rn and im doing it. if any of u follow me on tumblr (@ghostxraven or @ravenxbones) u may recognize the civilian names from a lil snip i posted last month but um for clarity
> 
> alex -> poison  
> damien -> ghoul  
> jamie -> kobra  
> (and jet is diego but that’s not relevant ummm for this)
> 
> mostly this exists bcs i am missing ballet a lot rn and im coping
> 
> title from seven wonders by fleetwood mac 💝

Being greeted by an empty dressing room, when Alex ducks back in from the dimly lit backstage, isn’t a surprise — Damien is in Rubies, and won’t be back for another fifteen minutes. What is a surprise, though, are the flowers sitting in a crystal vase on the vanity that weren’t there when Alex left to watch Jamie in Emeralds from the wings.

They’re still in their warmups, but they can spare a few minutes before they really have to put on their costume and shoes, so they pad across the cold concrete floor, ditching their dressing room key on the table by the door. The bouquet is a dozen white and red roses, a business placard declaring their delivery from Pony Express Florals on Mississippi Avenue. The card propped among the blooms is handwritten, bold print reading “good luck with the show. I’m sure you’ll be beautiful!” in purple ink. There’s no name, but the handwriting is familiar, and as Alex brushes their thumb over the cheerful smiley face drawn in the corner, he recognizes it, and his stomach flips.

He’s still standing at the vanity table, delicatelyrunning fingertips against the satiny petals of the roses when the dressing room door swings inward again. Damien takes three steps in, sees Alex, and stops, hovering in the doorway. Alex looks up, wide-eyed. “Hey,” they say, breathless like they were the one who was just on stage.

“Hi.” A few stray pieces of hair have fallen from where they were pinned, clinging to the damp, rosy skin above his cheeks. Damien’s eyes flick down to the bouquet on the vanity and that’s the last little bit of confirmation Alex needed.

They step a little closer, holding the card in both hands. “Thank you for the flowers,” he says, softly, voice pitching up a little bit with nerves.

Damien looks surprised, flushed skin paling a little, but then he smiles, nose scrunching. “‘M glad you liked them.” His grin turns a little sheepish. “Wasn’t supposed to be that obvious they were from me.”

“I recognized your handwriting. Um. From the cast sheet.” Alex shuffles a little closer, trying to be surreptitious. They scramble for something to say that won’t sound as creepy as the disjointed phrase ‘you’re sweaty’, which, like,  _duh, and also, kind of gross, ‘Lex_ . “They smell nice,” he squeaks, and then wants to melt into the dressing room floor.

Damien bites his lip, eyes lit up with something like hope. “Yeah?” He’s right in front of them and the red fabric of his stage costume looks really nice with his dark hair, and he doesn’t just smell like sweat and the dust that coats every surface in the stage area but also like some kind of fruit-scented antiperspirant and hairspray, and it’s making Alex feel a little crazy, so they lean down and kiss him.

Damien makes a little “oh,” sound, and opens up for them immediately. It’s better than all the times Alex has fantasized about this exact moment during slow moments in company class, soft and warm and scented like makeup and hair product. They pull away after only a few seconds, regretfully, especially so when it draws a soft noise from Damien, and Alex looks up to see his lashes resting on his cheeks, lips parted and shiny-pink. “Sorry,” they say, quickly, so he won’t think they didn’t mean it. “It’s just. God, I’ve got like five minutes to get changed.”

They can feel themself blush when Damien laughs, but then he smiles at them, and squeezes their fingers quickly. “So. The flowers worked, huh?”

Alex laughs, delightedly, feeling bright and sparkling like the fabric of the company costumes under stagelights. “You could say that? I — “ he pauses to catch his breath, hooking their fingers into the waistband of their warmup pants. “Um. I really like you, and it kind of seems like you like me too. So, uh. Can I — could I take you out sometime?” He says it in a rush, voice cracking a little, but it’s worth it to see Damien light up sun-radiant.

“Yeah, I’d — I’d like that.” For a moment, they just stand there, smiling shyly at one another, and then Damien jumps like he’s received an electric shock and wraps fingers around Alex’s wrist.

“Costume! C’mon, you really gotta go, here, I’ll help, where’re your bobby pins?”

The next minute or so is a whirlwind, and Alex barely has time to be aware of Damien’s steady fingers against their skin, pinning their hairpiece in place and zipping up the back of their costume before they’re desperately yanking on their pointe shoes and hopping out into the hallway on one foot.

“Hey, wait,” they blurt, out of breath, before they’ve completely gotten through the door. They look over their shoulder, to where Damien is hovering behind them, hands raised from adjusting one final thing on the strap. “Can — do you wanna go out for a pizza after the show, maybe? If you want.”

That earns another smile, and Alex could get used to seeing that expression on his face, the way it carves dimples into his cheeks, makes the whole world stop for a moment just to look. “That would be great. I’ll, um. See you after.” After a second, Damien darts forwards, pressing a light kiss against their cheek. “ _Merde_ . I meant what I wrote on the card.” He gives them a gentle shove when he pulls back, just enough to get them stumbling down the hall to where their partner is waiting for them, looking stressed.

They’ve arrived just in time, what would definitely be classed as “too late” by their artistic director, since they get sent out on stage about two seconds after they trip into place, but Alex feels fucking invincible. They smile more during the  _pas de deux_ than they ever did in rehearsal, springier through the entire thing than a piece as elegant as Diamonds probably calls for, and when they take their bows and the audience bursts into applause, he barely remembers the fine details of the performance, humming from fingertips to toes.

Damien’s waiting backstage when they finish, and Alex doesn’t really think before bounding over and kissing him. Someone in the wings wolf-whistles, but Damien just settles a warm hand on their waist and kisses back, smile tangible on his lips. “You were gorgeous,” he whispers, when they break apart, and Alex beams, uncaring about the eyes on them.

They reach for his hand, finding it already reaching for theirs. Damien stretches up on his toes, grinning against their ear. “So can I take you up on that pizza, now?”

“Yes,” they murmur, squeezing his hand right. “Yes! I, um. Clothes?”

Warm air brushes over their collarbone as he laughs. “Yeah, c’mon.”

Alex catches a glimpse of their brother in the wings as Damien tugs him back towards their joint dressing room by their linked hands, poorly hiding a smile behind his fingers. He rolls his eyes fondly when they catch his gaze, sticking his tongue out suggestively. Alex flips him off without much fire behind it; he doesn’t really care — right now, they’re so light they could float away, if it weren’t for Damien’s fingers laced through theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> the ballet mentioned specifically is george balanchine’s jewels! the three segments are emeralds, rubies, and diamonds with intermissions between; im going to link some clips below if you’re interested
> 
> emeralds: https://youtu.be/LuKekvgdkiE
> 
> rubies pas de deux: https://youtu.be/DSOsjLYaA88
> 
> diamonds pas de deux: https://youtu.be/-rodEJzRXBs
> 
> (ballet companies are in trouble rn because of the pandemic so if ur like. idk a rich person consider donating to your local company or a smaller company, they’re trying to stay in business while not being able to sell tickets atm!)


End file.
